"What happened to him?" Kelly asked.

"Nothing. He was in New York last I heard. Still playing his music, still on drugs."

He shook his head. "God, the talent that guy has. I never really knew him, but I used to see him every chance I got. I can't understand why he never got anywhere."

"The world is full of talented people."

"Yeah, but he's smarter than most- At least from what I heard."

"Too bad I wasn't as smart as he was. I could have saved myself a lot of grief I said. Actually, the marriage, though brief, had been the best few months of my life, Daniel had the face of an angel back then,.. clear blue eyes, a cloud of yellow curls. He always reminded me of some artist's rendering of a Catholic saint-lean and beautiful, ascetic-looking, with elegant hands and an unassuming air. He exuded innocence. He just couldn't be faithful, couldn't lay off" the drugs, couldn't stay in one place. He was wild and funny and corrupt, and if he came back today, I can't swear I'd turn him down, whatever he asked.

I let the conversation lapse and Kelly, prompted by the silence, finally spoke up.

"What's Bobby doing these days?"

I glanced back at him. He had perched himself on a tall wooden stool, the rag and disinfectant on the counter to his left.

"He's still trying to get his life back together," I said. "He works out every day. I don't know what else he does with his time. I don't suppose you have any idea what was going on back then, do you?"

"What difference does it make at this point?"

"He says he was in some kind of danger, but his memory's shot. Until I fill in the gaps, he's probably still in trouble."

"How come?"

"If somebody tried to kill him once, they may try again."

"Why haven't they done that so far?"

"I don't know. Maybe they think they're safe."

He looked at me. "That's weird."

"He never confided in you?"

Kelly shrugged, his manner ever so slightly guarded again. "We only worked together a couple of times. I was off on vacation for part of the time he was here, and the rest of it, I was on days while he did graveyard shift."

"Is there any chance he might have left a small red leather address book out here?"

"I doubt it. None of us even have lockers for our stuff."

I took a business card out of my wallet. "Will you give me a call if you have any ideas? I'd like to know what was going on back then and I know Bobby'd appreciate some help."

"Sure."

I went in search of Dr. Fraker, passing Nuclear Medicine, the nursing offices, and the offices of a group of local radiologists, all in the basement. I ran into Fraker just as he was coming downstairs again.

"All through?" he said.

"Yes, are you?"

"I've got a 'post' at noon, but we can find an empty office and talk if you like."

I shook my head. "I don't have any other questions for the moment. I may want to check back with you at some point."

"Absolutely. Just give me a call."

"Thanks. I'll do that."

I sat in my car in the parking lot, making notes on some three-by-five index cards I keep in the glove compartment: date, time, and names of the two people I'd talked to. I thought Dr. Fraker was a good resource, even though the interview with him hadn't yielded much. Kelly Borden hadn't been much help either, but at least it was an avenue I'd explored. Sometimes the noes are just as important as the yeses because they represent cul-de-sacs, allowing you to narrow your field of inquiry until you stumble into the heart of the maze. In this case, I had no idea where that might lie or what might be hidden there. I checked my watch. It was 11:45 and I thought about lunch. I have a hard time eating meals when I should. Either I'm not hungry when I'm supposed to be or I'm hungry and not in a place where I can stop and eat. It becomes a weight-control maneuver, but I'm not sure it's good for my health. I started my car and headed toward town.

I went back to the health-food restaurant where Bobby and I had eaten lunch on Monday. I was really hoping to run into him, but he was nowhere in sight. I ordered a longevity salad that was supposed to take care of 100 percent of my nutritional needs for life. What the waitress brought me was a plate piled with weeds and seeds, topped with a zesty pink dressing with specks. It didn't taste nearly as yummy as a Quarter Pounder with cheese, but I did feel virtuous, knowing I had all that chlorophyll coursing through my veins.